


Sirena

by my_lover_sings_to_slaughter



Series: Mythical Newsies [4]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Blood, Descriptive Death, Drinking, Drowning, Gen, Gender Roles, MMMEEERRRMMMAAAIIIDDDSSS, Poaching, Sickness, Smoking, Suicide, Swearing, Violence, Weapons, but he is also really chill when he's drunk, did an assload of research on sailor talk and traditional folk songs tho, fa- slur, i did minimal research on drowning im so sorry, i love my lil mermaid boi y'all, if y'all follow my mythical newsies series this is a standalone, if you don't know about the original little mermaid it's brutal, look y'all it's not as bad as it sounds, mention of murder, mermaid au, race alternates between italian and english when he is drunk, spot's mother said FUCK gender roles, the excerpt is where most of the trigger warnings come in, there might be a bit of historical inaccuracy when it comes to words and phrases, there's A LOT of sailor terms and references, there's a huge excerpt from the little mermaid, there's implied sprace if you squint, y'all let me know if the time jumps are too confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_lover_sings_to_slaughter/pseuds/my_lover_sings_to_slaughter
Summary: After catastrophe strikes, a young Spot Conlon befriends a young mermaid named Nello who likes to hang around the Brooklyn docks.
Relationships: Spot Conlon & Racetrack Higgins
Series: Mythical Newsies [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133636
Kudos: 9





	Sirena

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: Sickness, blood, weapons, mention of murder, suicide, descriptive death, gender roles, smoking, swearing, drinking, fa- slur, s**sy slur, violence, drowning, poaching.
> 
> Like I said in the tags, if you're following along with my Mythical Newsies series, this does not take place within the main werewolf/vampire storyline or the Ace of Spades ghost storyline. This is a standalone.

“Sean, come here. Come sit with me.”

The small boy plodded across the wooden floor of his home and sat next to his weak mother on their couch.

“Yes, Mama?”

“Tell me, my boy, do you believe in mermaids?”

“Mama, mermaids are for girls. That’s what Papa said to me once.”

“Well, your Papa was a fool. Mermaids are for anyone willing to listen to their song.”

“Even then, mermaids ain’t real.”

“But it’s fun to believe, isn’t it? Fun to play pretend?” The boy’s mother ended her sentence with a coughing fit. Once she was done, the boy reached over with a handkerchief and blotted away the sweat off of her forehead and the blood from around her mouth.

“Sean, look at me. Don’t become hard and cold like your father became in his last few years. I won’t make you promise me, but I want you to try your hardest to not to be like him. Treat strangers with kindness, treat your future friends and family with kindness, but most importantly, treat yourself with kindness. Grab your childhood tightly in your fingers and never let go. Even after you grow up, have a family of your own, and eventually pass on, never let go. I know the responsibility of taking care of me in my sickness is hard on you, but never let go.”

The boy creased his eyebrows, swallowed the lump in his throat, and nodded. “I’ll try my hardest.”

“Good. Now, let me tell you the story of ‘The Little Mermaid.’”

******

“The little mermaid rested her white arms on the railing of the ship, and looked towards the east for the morning dawn; the first sunbeam she knew would kill her. She saw her sisters rising out of the waves; they were as pale as herself; their beautiful long hair was no longer fluttering in the wind—it was cut off. ‘We have given it to the witch, that we might help you, and save you from death to-night. She has given us a knife; here it is! Look how sharp it is! Before the sun rises you must thrust it into the prince’s heart, and when the warm blood spurts upon your feet, they will grow together again into a fishtail, and you will be a mermaid once more; then you can come back to us, and you or he must die before the sun rises. Our grandmother is so grieved, her white hair has also been cut off by the witch’s scissors. Kill the prince and return to us! Hasten! Do you see that red streak in the sky? In a few minutes the sun will rise and then you must die!’ Then they heaved a mournful sigh, and disappeared in the waves.

“The little mermaid drew back the purple curtain at the door of the tent, and saw the beautiful bride lying with her head on the prince’s breast. She bent down and kissed his forehead, and looked up to the sky, where daybreak was approaching; then she looked at the sharp knife, and again at the prince, who murmured his bride’s name in his dreams. Only she was in his thoughts, and the knife trembled in the little mermaid’s hand. Suddenly she threw it far out into the sea, and where it fell the waves looked red, and it seemed as if drops of blood were spurting up out of the water. As she was passing away she looked once more at the prince, then threw herself down from the ship into the sea, and felt her body dissolving into foam.”

The boy adjusted himself and chewed his lip in thought.

“The mermaid.” He began.

“Yes?”

“She could walk on land, but it always felt like she was walking on knives, right?”

“Yes.”

“And she couldn’t speak.”

“Yes.”

“And the prince believed the other girl saved him from the ocean and that’s why he’s in love with her instead of the mermaid?”

“Yes.”

“And the mermaid wanted to be back with her family?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t she just kill the prince?”

“The mermaid was in love with the prince. When you love someone, you would do anything to make them happy, even if it means sacrificing your own happiness. That’s what she did. She noticed that he was content and happy with his bride and she loved him too much to ruin that for her own benefit. Do you understand, Sean?”

“Yes, I do, Mama.”

“Good, then let’s continue.”

******

A few months passed and the boy’s mother had only gotten worse. She could hardly keep her eyes open, and she had coughing fits almost every other minute. The money her husband left behind was diminishing day by day. They had already reached a point where they could no longer afford her medicine, but it was getting to the point where they could hardly afford enough food for the two of them. The boy insisted that he go out and find work, but his mother wouldn’t let him. She was insistent on him keeping as much of his childhood as he was able.

She knew she was going to die either way. She was going to die due to a lack of medicine or she was going to die because he wouldn’t be there to help her. Even so, she knew he’d have to get a job eventually. She just hoped that it would be after she passed on so that he wouldn’t have to worry about supplying for her as well. And, well, she got her wish.

She was sleeping on the couch, which had become her permanent resting spot, and her son was asleep in the chair across from her. She was used to waking up coughing, but this time was different.

Her eyes suddenly flew open and blood spurted out of her mouth. She tried her hardest to just cough it all up, but there was too much. She knew she was going to die. She just hoped that her son didn’t wake up to see it. This time she didn’t get her wish. The sounds of her hacking and gurgling were too loud and her son immediately sprung into action.

“Mama! Oh God, Mama, what do I do?” He was wiping the blood away from her face, but it was continuously being replaced. “Oh God, oh God, oh God! Help! Someone help us!” He screamed into the air, hoping someone would hear him. “Mama, I’m going to get the doc down the street, alright? J-Just hold on for a few more minutes. Please.”

He turned to dart out of the house, but she grabbed him by the wrist and weakly pressed a folded piece of paper into his hand. He pocketed it, then left the house.

As promised, he returned a few minutes later with the local doctor. (The man wasn’t too happy to be woken up that early, but he got over it once he realized the urgency of the boy). It was too late, however. The boy’s mother was completely motionless. In fact, the only motion the house at that moment was the steady drip of blood from his mother’s mouth to the small pool forming on the floor.

In a quick motion, the doctor turned the boy around and pushed him into the next room.

“I’m...I’m going to call the police, alright? We’ll get all of this sorted out, I promise.” He waited for a response but didn’t get one. He hesitated, then went back into the living room to do his job.

With shaky hands, the boy pulled the folded piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. All it told him was to simply go into the kitchen and look under the sink. He gathered what strength he had left and forced his body toward the kitchen. He wasn’t even sure it was him moving his body. He felt like he was a husk being drug around by a force much stronger than he was. His arm reached out and pulled open the cabinet under the sink to find a very familiar book. It was small and thin, since the story it contained was only a few pages long. It was leather-bound and it had a simple design of a mermaid embroidered in gold on the front, followed by his parents’ names below it. It was “The Little Mermaid.” The boy had come to learn that his father had saved up his money and purchased the book for their wedding anniversary one year. It was the boy’s mother’s favorite story.

His fingers wrapped around the thin cover and opened the book. On the first page, which had always been blank, there were words scrawled across it. The handwriting was very obviously his mother’s, but it was shaky and her loops were sharp instead of clean and circular. The page read:

“Dear Sean,

Never let go.

Love you always, Mama”

It was a simple note to leave, and it would leave anyone else in a state of confusion. The boy, however, knew exactly what it meant. But...as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t promise her that he would try. Not anymore.

Suddenly, he heard a loud chatter near the front of the house. The cops were there. He didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay there in the comfort of his house...but he also couldn’t stay there. As a last-minute decision, he plucked his coat off of the coat rack in the corner, shoved the book into one of the pockets, and launched himself through an open window. He tumbled out into the street and just started running. He didn’t look back and he didn’t stop until he finally collapsed under the nearby dock.

******

The boy woke up still underneath the dock, but he was very damp and his teeth were chattering.

“What the…?” He trailed off.

“You were screamin’ in your sleep. Attracted the attention of some bulls runnin’ ‘round lookin’ for ya, but I figured that if you was under here, you didn’t want to be found. So they came down here lookin’ and I snatched ya under the water and blew you out a nice air bubble so you could breathe and then I put ya back when they left.”

There was another boy in the water with his elbows up on the dock next to him and his head propped up on one of his hands. The other boy had curly, blonde hair that threatened to dangle in his eerily glowing blue eyes. He had a slight lisp when he talked, but that was due to the elongated, sharp canines in his mouth. There were soft blue scales that were scattered across his skin much like how freckles would be. His fingers were slightly webbed and he had claws in place of fingernails. His ears were mostly human, but they stretched out into three points with colored webs in between the points that matched the color of his scales.

“Oh! And before you start worryin’, I spared your coat before I pulled you under. You were holdin’ it really close, so I figured it was important or at least somethin’ in it was. Bulls don’t care about trash bein’ left under here.”

The boy snapped out of the trance he was in. “My coat ain’t trash and neither is what’s in it!” He snapped.

The other boy’s eyes widened. “No! No, that ain’t what I meant. I just meant that’s how the bulls would see it, that’s all. It’s a real nice coat. I, uh, I’m Nello. That’s what my folks call me.”

The boy looked him up and down, then softened. “I’m Sean. That’s what my folks called me.”

“Called? You ain’t got no folks no more?”

Sean flinched and looked to the side.

“Oh my God, that’s why you’re runnin’, ain’t it? Oh man, Sean, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get in ya business like that. I’m really curious by nature, but that don’t justify anythin’. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.” Sean whispered.

“What if I just talk about myself? Not like as a selfish thing but as a would that make you feel any better thing? Get it all off your mind and stuff?”

Sean gave him a shrug that said “why not?”

“Well, uh, do you believe in mermaids?” Nello questioned.

“I really can’t escape it, can I?”

“What?”

“My mama. She...her favorite story was ‘The Little Mermaid.’ That’s what I got in my coat over there. She was really sick and she...well, she died last night. Anyway, no, I don’t believe in mermaids. She always wanted me to, though.”

“Yeah, a lot of boys typically don’t want to believe in mermaids. They think it’s a girly thing.”

“No, it ain’t. Mermaids are for anyone willing to listen to their song. That’s what Mama said once. I just don’t believe in ‘em. Though, I guess this is the part where you tell me you’re a mermaid. Or merman. Or merboy. Or whatever.”

“That’s...that’s beautiful. And I just call myself a mermaid. Merman just sounds ridiculous.” Nello rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s the ridiculous part.”

“I guess this is the part where you want proof, since all of this ain’t proof enough.” Nello winked as he repeated Sean’s statement from a few seconds earlier.

Sean cocked an eyebrow in response.

Nello gave Sean a fang-filled smirk before turning around so that his back was pressed up against the wood of the dock. In one fluid movement, he hoisted himself up on the dock and leaned back against one of its support beams. His _tail_ was sprawled out in front of him. It was quite literally a fishtail. It matched his scales perfectly, and even gave off a bit of a glow like his eyes.

“Holy. _Shit_.” Sean whispered. His mother would’ve gotten onto him for saying it, but he was just in pure awe.

“Believe in mermaids yet?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. How, uh, how many of you are there?”

“Like in existence? Psh, who knows. I hardly keep up with the ones around here, except for my folks.”

“Do you like breathe underwater or…?”

“I can. When I’m underwater for a long time, I grow gills. When I’m up here, I breathe just like you.”

“Can you grow legs?”

“Yep!” In a flash of bright light, everything that declared him a mermaid disappeared and he was left as a nude human boy.

Sean looked at him wildly. “It don’t hurt!?” He exclaimed.

“We ain’t like the mermaids in the stories, Sean. We ain’t as pretty, but we can come and go whenever we want.”

“Wow.” Sean whispered. “Can you turn other people into mermaids?”

“Only my mate and children. But you gotta take me out on a date first.” Nello crossed his arms over his chest and winked at Sean.

Sean shot him a smirk. “We’ll see.”

They sat together in a comfortable silence after that, until a small sniffle was heard. Nello looked over at Sean to see glistening tears freely flowing down his cheeks.

“Nello, what am I gonna do?” He croaked.

Nello shifted himself to where he was sitting next to Sean and let him curl up into his side. He didn’t respond, he just listened.

* * *

Racetrack Higgins stood at the edge of the Brooklyn dock and watched as the smoke from his cigar curled into the night sky. He didn’t usually smoke the cigars, but he needed some form of stress relief. It had been days since they had struck the deal with Pulitzer and all of the newsies were still celebrating. Now, Race didn’t mind a good party or two, but even he had his limits.

“I usually don’t appreciate strangers showin’ up on my turf, but I suppose you ain’t much of a stranger.” Race turned around to see a much smaller, but much more intimidating figure standing a few feet away from him.

“Spot Conlon. I don’t think we’ve formally met.” Race had been selling at Sheepshead long before Spot took control of Brooklyn. When he did take control, he thought about confronting the boy, but decided to leave him be to prevent conflict.

“Racetrack Higgins. You ain’t out partyin’? The workin’ day’s over. Heard youse quite the party animal on the Manhattan side.”

“Eh, I have my limits. I could ask you the same question, y’know.”

“I don’t party. Celebrations are nice. But I don’t party.”

“Gotta keep up that rep of yours, huh?”

Spot shot Race a cold glare and Race held his hands up in defeat. He turned back around and peered into the water.

“Do you like to swim, Conlon?”

“Don’t have the time.”

“God, not even on nights like these? Brooklyn’s quiet. Everybody’s asleep.”

“Are you tryin’ to coerce me, Higgins?”

“Nah, I’m just tryin’ to loosen you up.” He took a drag off of his cigar and blew a circle into the sky. “I used to swim all the time. You’d think I lived in the sea.” There was a strange pause before he quickly took another drag. “Anyway, I’ll see you later, Spottie.” Race walked past Spot and into the night.

“See ya...Racer.”

******

Race didn’t know what to do in this situation. He dealt with crying newsies all the time. He just didn’t know how to deal with _this_ crying newsie.

He was wandering around Brooklyn in the middle of the night, which really wasn’t a good idea, but he had nothing better to do. He didn’t particularly have a destination, but he always seemed to end up at the dock.There was a small, shaking figure perched on the top of the dock that Race didn’t recognize until he was nearly right behind it.

“...Spot?” They had been friends for a few months, but Race didn’t know how to manage this situation.

Spot quickly rubbed the tears from his face and rose to his feet. “Racetrack.”

“Are...are you alright?”

“I, uh, yeah. I am.”

“You was cryin’.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you was.”

“The hell does it matter to you!?”

“I’m concerned!”

“Why!?”

“I’m your friend, Spot! Friends get concerned about their cryin’ friends!”

They stood and stared at each other in silence. Race sighed as he watched Spot try to fight back a quivering lip.

“It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, Spottie. C’mere.” He opened up his arms and Spot immediately crashed into him. “You ain’t gotta tell me what’s wrong, but there ain’t no shame in cryin’.”

They stood there until Spot couldn’t hold himself up any longer and Race gingerly brought him to the ground with him. Spot rested his head on Race’s shoulder and let out shaky breaths in an effort to calm himself down.

“One of my boys...he died earlier. Consumption. He was the youngest of all of us. Too young.”

“Spottie, I’m so sorry.” Race couldn’t imagine what he would do if one of his friends- no, _brothers_ died like that.

“That was bad enough already, but that’s...that’s how my mother died when I was a boy. I, uh, I was takin’ care of her and I fell asleep and when I w-woke up, she...she-” Spot couldn’t finish.

“It ain’t your fault, Spot. It ain’t your fault.”

“It was bad, Racer. There was s-so much blood.”

“Shh, Spottie. It’s alright. It ain’t your fault. Ain’t your fault.”

Spot was reduced to a crying mess for the next few minutes. When he finally stopped, he shot up and gave Race a hard glare.

“I ain’t never told nobody that. Not even my second.”

“I won’t tell nobody, Spot. I promise you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

******

Spot had never heard such a beautiful voice before. It was soft and graceful, while simultaneously being bold and confident. It echoed throughout the streets of Brooklyn with a song he had never heard so heartrendingly performed in his life.

_My Bonnie lies over the ocean_

_My Bonnie lies over the sea_

_My Bonnie lies over the ocean_

_Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me_

_Bring back, bring back_

_Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me_

_Bring back, bring back_

_Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me_

“Boss.” Spot’s second, Hot Shot, called out in his usual gruff voice.

“Hm.” Spot grunted in response.

“What’re you doin’?” Hot Shot was one of the only people who could question Spot without getting snapped at.

“Do you hear it?”

“...Hear what?”

“The song.”

“What song?”

Spot started humming along with it. “’My Bonnie.’ You hear it?”

“Boss, there ain’t no song. Are you feelin’ right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’m goin’ out.”

Hot Shot grabbed Spot’s cane out of the corner of the room and tossed it to him. Spot caught it in one hand while he used the other to place a cap on his head. He didn’t really need the cane; it was merely a symbol of power.

“Boss.” Hot Shot repeated.

“I won’t be out long.”

“ _Boss_.”

Spot whipped his head around and Hot Shot gave him a look that said “be careful.” Spot gave him a barely noticeable nod in response.

_O blow ye winds over the ocean  
_ _O_ _blow ye winds over the sea  
O blow ye winds over the ocean  
and bring back m_ _y Bonnie_ _to me  
  
Bring back, bring back  
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me  
Bring back, bring back  
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me _

Spot raced throughout the streets of Brooklyn following the voice. He didn’t necessarily know how he was following it. It wrapped around the buildings that surrounded him and stalked behind him. There wasn’t a discernible direction from which the sound was coming from, but Spot’s feet were taking him somewhere specific. After what felt like minutes of running, Spot ended up at the dock.

At the end of the dock was a very familiar figure. It was tall and lanky with a cheap bottle of alcohol grasped in its palm.

_Last night as I lay on my pillow  
Last night as I lay on my bed  
Last night as I lay on my pillow  
I dreamt that my Bonnie was dead  
  
Bring back, bring back  
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me  
Bring back, bring back  
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me_

“Heya, Spottie.” It was obvious that the boy had been crying.

“Don’t let me interrupt. Go ahead, Racer.”

Race sighed and continued.

_The winds have blown over the ocean  
The winds have blown over the sea  
The winds have blown over the ocean  
And brought back my Bonnie to me  
  
Bring back, bring back  
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me  
Bring back, bring back  
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me _

Race blew out a shaky exhale and dumped the remainder of the alcohol into the water. He ran a hand over his face and turned around to face Spot.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Spot looked him up and down.

“Don’t sing much anymore. Only on the day my folks died.”

It suddenly dawned on Spot. No wonder the voice was so sad; he was singing a song of mourning.

“Race, I’m-”

“Nah, it’s fine. Ain’t nothin’ to be done about it. Just like to sing a song, honor them, send myself up the pole, then go home.”

“...Send yourself up the pole?”

Race wiggled the empty bottle around. “Get drunk. It’s sailor talk.”

“Your dad. Was he a sailor?”

“So was my _madre_.”

“Ain’t sailin’ for boys?”

“Sailin’ is for anyone. The sea calls to you and either choose to answer her with all your heart, or you choose nothin’. That’s what my _mamma_ always said.”

Spot nodded and simply stood next to Race in silence. After a while, Race placed the bottle down on the dock and pulled out a cigar, lit it, and took a long drag from it within the span of fifteen seconds.

“They died like that.”

“Hm?” It took Spot by surprise.

“That’s how they died. At sea. Doin’ what they loved.” Race tossed the cigar to the ground and stomped it out without a care.

“You really are drunk.” Spot whispered.

“Yeah. Walk me home, _tesoro mio_?”

“Yeah, of course. Hey, I didn’t recognize that one.”

“I’ll teach it to you when I ain’t groggy as hell.”

“’Groggy?’”

“Drunk. More sailor talk.”

******

“Spottie, look. It ain’t that hard.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been doin’ it for years!”

“Look, watch. All you gotta do is inhale, keep it in your throat, move your tongue toward the back of your mouth, make your mouth into an ‘o’ shape, and just blow.”

“Racer, I know you said it like that on purpose and I hate you for it.”

“Now that ain’t true! You love me for it!” Race nudged Spot in the side. “Now, look. Just try it.”

“Alright, alright.” Spot snatched the cigar out of Race’s fingers and attempted to blow out a ring of smoke, but ended up coughing out all of the smoke he had gathered. “Yeah, I give up. I’ll leave the cool stuff to you.”

“I’m sure you can-”

“Well, look at what we have here. A couple of fags.”

The two boys froze at the sound of the booming voice behind them. They both immediately stood up and turned around in unison.

“Who the hell are you?” Spot demanded.

“Just a man who likes to keep waste off of the streets.” He sneered at them.

“Spot, let’s just go.” Race whispered.

“Nah, you ain’t leavin’ until I’ve done my job.”

“You’re gonna let us go.” Spot inched closer to the man.

“Or what, sissy-boy?” The man copied Spot’s action.

“You’ll regret it.”

In a flash of movement, the man punched Spot square in the jaw. Spot stumbled back a little, but immediately regained his footing. He launched himself at the man and punches started flying.

_Holy shit_ , Race thought. He honestly didn’t know what he should do. He wasn’t going to run, he knew that for sure. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to throw himself into that mess.

The man finally got Spot away from him and kicked him to the side, then went after Race. Race delivered a sharp blow to the man’s face with his elbow and was about to push him away, but Spot had already gotten back up and pulled the man away. The two of them pushed and pulled at each other until Spot fell off the end of the dock.

“Spot!?” Race exclaimed.

“He’s a big boy. If he can throw a punch, he can swim.” The man stalked back to Race.

“He’s the King of Brooklyn, he ain’t got the time to learn!” Race tried to throw a punch, but the man dodged it.

“Ooo, the King of Brooklyn. I’m shakin’.” He got Race in the chin with his fist.

When Race heard a frantic splashing noise coming from the water, he went into full-panic mode. In bright flash, blue scales poked up from out of his skin. His fingernails and teeth elongated into claws and fangs. His ears became fin-like and webs grew in between his fingers. His eyes turned completely blue and lit up his face in the night.

“You better be.” Race growled. He bared his teeth at the man and let out a noise that was a strange mixture between a roar and a shriek. The man’s eyes widened and he fell to the ground. When Race took a single step towards him, he scrambled to his feet and took off in the night.

Race immediately took off toward the water and dived off of the bridge. He didn’t know where Spot was in the water. He could hardly see through the murky water, even considering what he was. He stopped swimming and let out another shriek. He paused and waited for the sound waves to echo back to him. After a few seconds, he knew exactly where Spot was. He raced toward him, scooped him up, and brought him back to the dock.

******

When Spot woke back up, he was back in his “office” in the Brooklyn boarding house. He was shivering and wet in his bed and his chest _burned_. He groaned and tried to sit up but immediately became dizzy.

“Nope, Boss. You ain’t supposed to get up.” Hot Shot was immediately at his side.

“Says who?” Spot demanded.

Hot Shot looked up and over at another figure in the room. Wordlessly, he stood up and left the room. Another figure took his place.

“How are you?” Race asked.

“What happened? After that fucker kicked me in the- holy shit. Race.”

“Well, I scared the guy away.”

“Race.”

“And then I saved your ass.”

“ _Race._ ”

“And then- yeah?”

“You’re, uh...” Spot looked him up and down.

“A freak? A monster?” Race winced and looked away.

“What? No. You’re...beautiful.”

“...What?”

“You’re beautiful. But...why didn’t you tell me before? I ain’t one to judge.”

Race looked back at Spot and hesitated, then sat down beside him on the bed.

“Mermaids...we ain’t very safe anymore. We’s viewed as either good or bad luck and people hunt us down to kill us or for trophies. You don’t really tell people you’re a mermaid anymore. Not that I don’t trust you! You just can’t be too careful these days.”

“But you’re still all...mermaid-y and...stuff. And Hot Shot was just in here, and any of my newsies could walk in at any moment. Why are you riskin’ that?”

“I realized you could’ve died and I just...I don’t know. I wanted to be honest. I didn’t want you to die without knowing...about...me.”

“I...I think I already knew.”

“What?”

“Do you recognize me?”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“My real name is Sean.”

Now, Race had met many, many boys named Sean in his life. But everything came together in his mind. It all made sense. Why they always seemed to find each other at the dock. Why Spot could hear his song. Just...everything.

“...Sean?”

“Nello.” Spot whispered.

“I...I thought I’d never see you again. But you’ve been here this whole time. My God, Sean, you’re the King of Brooklyn! The last time I saw you, you were-”

“A sad kid under the dock?”

“Understandably.”

Spot nodded and looked away, then looked back.

“Your folks? Were they really sailors?”

“Nah, they were mermaids. Fuckin’ poachers got to them. I was the only one who could escape. I’ve been on land since.”

Spot nodded again. “Does anyone over in Manhattan know?”

“Jack does, of course. Davey does. Y’know, the Walkin’ Mouth. And Albert does.”

“And they’s fine with it?”

“Oh, yeah. They’s good.”

“Good. Say, is it only mermaids out there? Like, are there other things?”

“What, like the Kraken? Nah. Not that I know of.” Race winked at him.

Spot chuckled and just laid there staring at Race.

“Hey, Race?”

“Yeah, Spottie?”

“Sing me a song?”

“’Course.”

_Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,  
Say, could that lad be I?  
Merry of soul he sailed on a day  
Over the sea to Skye.  
  
Mull was astern, _ _Rùm_ _on the port,  
Eigg on the starboard bow;  
Glory of youth glowed in his soul;  
Where is that glory now?  
  
Give me again all that was there,  
Give me the sun that shone!  
Give me the eyes, give me the soul,  
Give me the lad that's gone!  
  
Billow and breeze, islands and seas,  
Mountains of rain and sun,  
All that was good, all that was fair,  
All that was me is gone. _

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, here's some fun trivia I guess
> 
> *I typed the entirety of the excerpt from "The Little Mermaid" myself. (Also, if you've never read the original story, I'm sorry for ruining your childhood oop)  
> *I think I spent an entire night doing nothing but researching tuberculosis.  
> *oh my GOD i love MERMAIDS  
> *I had to go on a mad search for the script to remember that they referred to the cops as "bulls."  
> *Nello is short for Antonello, which is a form of Antonio.  
> *"The sea calls to you and either choose to answer her with all your heart, or you choose nothin’." This quote is one I got from a sticker I got at a place called Weeki Wachee Springs State Park in Southern Florida. It's a small little place, but they do live mermaid shows and they're really cool. (I've been on a mermaid kick for weeks thanks to that place.)  
> *The first song in the story is "My Bonnie" and the second one is "The Skye Boat Song." The lyrics to "Skye Boat" listed in the story are not the original lyrics, but are the ones written by Robert Louis Stevenson (author of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde). Also, if you watch the show Outlander, you might recognize the song as the theme song (except for "lad" being exchanged for "lass" for the show.)


End file.
